


in your corner

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “I’m gonna tell you summat,” Aaron says, looking at Diane’s shoes, her handbag, anywhere but her face. “Robert doesn’t know what I’m telling you, only that I am.”

aaron fights robert's corner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> warnings at the end of the fic, just in case it triggers some people!
> 
> wrote this because i had emotions about diane calling robert selfish. 
> 
> i hope this works. enjoy?

Aaron hovers in the living room, biting at his thumb. It’s a nervous habit he’s picked up lately, one that he keeps telling himself to break, but somehow never does. The rest of the house is empty, Liv at school and Robert at a late meeting. Aaron’s apprehensive about his return, not because they’re fighting — which they are, a little — but because they both know what he’s about to do. 

There’s a knock at the door and Aaron takes a deep breath before moving to open it. 

“Hello, pet,” Diane says, with a smile. Thankfully there’s no Doug shaped shadow, just as Aaron asked, so he steps aside and lets her in. 

“Thanks for coming,” he mumbles. 

He feels awkward around Diane sometimes, especially lately. Robert’s as good as her son, and despite Robert’s protestations to the opposite, he worries she won’t think he’s good enough. _Probably thinks you’re too good for me_ , Robert says, with a self-deprecating slant to his mouth. It makes something hurt in Aaron’s chest, makes him press kisses to Robert’s face, neck, tell him over and over how much Aaron loves him, wants him. 

Diane steps around him, into the main living room. There’s a cup of tea waiting on the coffee table and she gives him a soft smile. 

Aaron avoids looking at her as he takes one of the chairs, sitting on the edge and running a thumb over his eyebrow. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Diane gives him a look. “It’s not you I’m mad at.”

Therein lies the problem. 

_She called me selfish_. Robert’s mouth had twisted around the words, his eyes dark. 

There’s so much about Robert that Aaron doesn’t know, but he’s breaking down Robert’s walls brick by tiny brick. His fear of abandonment, his issues with his own self worth; those are things Aaron knows well, that he can read without help. Selfish isn’t a word Aaron thinks about when he looks at Robert. Perhaps it used to be, back when they were — back _then_ — but he’s different now. Honest in ways he never has been. 

“He means well.”

“Aaron—” Diane cuts herself off at whatever she sees on Aaron’s face. 

They’re fighting, he and Robert. Tired of the cold shoulder, of Robert nursing anger through the night, they’d fought that morning, quick but nasty, and Robert’s parting shot of _tell her what you like, I’m sick of this and I —_ before storming out of the house drove Aaron here. 

It’s not carte blanche permission, not really, but it’s enough. Robert’s angry because he’s hurting. 

“I’m gonna tell you summat,” Aaron says, looking at Diane’s shoes, her handbag, anywhere but her face. “Robert doesn’t know what I’m telling you, only that I am.”

Diane looks unhappy. “Whatever he wants to say —”

“’Cept he can’t, can he?” Aaron’s not used to this, fighting in someone else’s corner so strongly. He loves Robert, wants to protect him, even if that’s from Robert’s own step mum. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he was protecting you.”

Diane says nothing, finally, _finally_ , willing to listen. 

Aaron runs a hand through his hair nervously, before looking Diane in the eye. “You remember when Robert and Chrissie broke up the first time, before the divorce?”

Obviously lost, Diane frowns. She nods, distracted, and Aaron doesn’t know if she actually remembers. It doesn’t matter in the long run, he supposes. 

“Well. They had a fight.” They share a wry look, then, because what’s life with Robert without one? Aaron sobers quickly, hates Chrissie with renewed vigour when he thinks about it. “Chrissie was angry, and rightly so, but she shut him in one of the outbuildings at Home Farm.”

Something flickers in Diane’s eyes, and she presses a hand to her mouth. 

“He thought it would blow over, that she’d let him out.” Aaron digs his fingers into his palm, forces himself to _focus_. “Chrissie tossed water over the barn door, told Robert it was petrol.”

Looking sick, Diane’s eyes well up. Aaron almost stops, doesn’t want to upset her, but he thinks of Robert, of the look on his face the night before. _No matter what I do, it’s never enough_ , the look in his eyes that was too close to defeat for Aaron to take.

Aaron rests his elbows on his knees, cups the back of his neck. “She held up a lighter, threatened to set it alight. It was a joke, cruel, but a joke. Told him so and then let him out.”

There’s silence in the living room while Aaron pauses, as much for himself as for Diane. He doesn’t look at her, can’t, and stares at the picture of him and Robert on the mantle. Robert’s only spoken about it once, voice wavering, face tucked into Aaron’s neck. Aaron knows him inside and out, knows what fear sounds like when it comes out of Robert’s mouth, the tremble of his hands against Aaron’s side. _If I was that scared, what must mum—_

“Why are you telling me this?” Diane asks eventually, breaking the silence. 

“The Whites are dangerous. Lachlan’s shot Lawrence already, if Chrissie can threaten that, can actually set alight to a car—” Aaron trails off. Diane’s far too acquainted with the repercussions of that, knows loss. “Robert promised Andy that he would take care of you and Vic. You know him, Diane. He does what he thinks is right when he protects the people he cares about.” Aaron’s lips quirk up. “Even if his ‘right’ isn’t exactly that.”

Diane’s answering smile is small and sad. “I deserved to know.”

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees, even if he himself didn’t think to tell her, to tell Vic. It felt good, however reluctant he’s been, to stand side by side with Robert. 

“Thank you for telling me.” Diane’s sincere. She’s clutching at the mug of tea like a lifeline. Aaron can only imagine what’s running through her head right now. “He doesn’t _tell_ me anything. Not just about this, but — anything.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say to that; it’s not his place, not really, to tell her that Robert’s an open book if she looks hard enough. It doesn’t feel fair, but he wants to, wants to press until she gets that Robert’s asking with everything he says to her, with every way he looks at her. Instead, he says, “Be mad at the Whites, take the fight to them all you want, but don’t be mad at him.”

Diane nods slowly, but she’s frowning.

“Please,” Aaron says again. Diane looks up, studies his face. It makes Aaron squirm, but he forces himself to look back. “He’s lost his brother, Diane. He thinks he’s lost you too.”

“He hasn’t,” Diane says, immediately. She looks distraught, places her mug on the edge of the table. “Is that what he thinks? I’m mad, Aaron, I’m not—”

The door opens then, cutting through whatever Diane might have said. It’s Robert, looking tired, reluctance in every line of his body. His eyes dart from Aaron to Diane and then back. His mouth is sad, but there’s relief in his eyes. “Hey.”

They’re not going to continue the fight then. Aaron gives him a smile, stands slowly. “Hey.”

Before he can move, Diane’s off the sofa. Robert looks startled, rocks back on his heels like she might — Diane sweeps him into a hug, hand on the back of his neck. There’s a beat when Aaron thinks Robert might stay like that, stiff and unrelenting, but he lets out a breath, sags in Diane’s hold. It’s a rare moment, one Aaron’s not sure Robert would have allowed under any other circumstances. 

“Diane.” Robert pulls back, opens his mouth to say something else.

“I’m sorry.” Diane touches Robert’s cheek gently. “I was angry and I took it out on you.”

“It’s okay,” Robert says, eyes flicking to Aaron. “What’s he been saying?”

Diane’s expression shifts into a smile. She looks back over her shoulder, then squeezes Robert’s arm. “That’s between your fiance and me.”

Aaron’s not startled by the automatic grin anymore, but he still finds himself rubbing his thumb against the underside of the engagement band on his finger. It feels weird, _good_ , to hear that word, to know that he and Robert are forever. 

Robert’s smiling too, eyes soft as they peer over Diane’s head to where Aaron’s standing. 

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Diane tells them, reaching for her bag and coat. 

Aaron feels like he should tell her to stay, say something, but he can’t bring himself to. 

“You don’t have to,” Robert starts, reluctance in every word. Diane must hear it because she doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Robert’s arm again and nods once to Aaron before slipping through to the pub. 

There’s an awkward silence, long and drawn out. Aaron wants to move, wants to touch Robert, kiss him, but he’s not sure if they’re okay yet. The fight is still between them, still happened, as much as he wants to pretend it didn’t.

Robert makes the decision for him; he crosses the room in a step, two, and rests his hands on Aaron’s waist. “I’m sorry.”

Two words Aaron’s heard over and over, but Robert says them with conviction, with _meaning_. “I’m sorry too.”

Robert huffs a small laugh, presses his forehead to Aaron’s. “Whatever you said, thank you.”

“Yeah, well,” Aaron says, chest tight with happiness. “Where’d you be without me, eh?”

There’s a flicker to Robert’s eyes that they both choose to ignore. 

“I love you,” Robert says, like it’s easy.

“I love you too,” Aaron says, because it is.

**Author's Note:**

>  **warnings;** contains references to chrissie threatening to set robert on fire.
> 
> join me on [tumblr](http://sapphicsugden.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
